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Twenty-four hours before my flight back to NY I felt desperate. Desperate to stay, desperate to go, and desperate to capture every detail of my Guatemalan existence.

This was the hand-carved dresser that was in my room. Every day the sun would crawl across the wall, slide down the wood, and by afternoon had reached the orangey tile on the floor

On the floor that bright, slanted box served two purposes: it made a wonderfully warm spot for my chilly feet and it threw a beautiful fiery glow right back at the blue daylight above.

What are these numbered posts all about? Read the introduction to my Photo & 100 Words project and find out!